


Absolute Beginners

by BurningTea



Series: Holidays and Occasions [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mixtape, Sam Ships It, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:18:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6013795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningTea/pseuds/BurningTea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel each decide to get the other one a gift for Valentine's Day. There can't be any issue with that. Can there?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolute Beginners

Dean huffed out a breath and wiped his hands on his jeans. He felt like he’d run ten miles or climbed a mountain or some shit, like his heart was about to beat its way out of his chest from the strain. No way was he telling anyone how much time this had taken him. No way.

With hands just a bit the wrong side of steady, he punched open the tape-deck and slid the cassette out. He’d already labeled it, carefully and neatly, all in block capitals so the letters would be clear. 

‘For Cas’ 

Biting his lip, he thought again about adding to it. This was Cas, after all. There was far too high a chance the guy wouldn’t get what a mix-tape even meant. He got as far as uncapping the pen before his courage fled. It’d probably gone for a drink, which was what he needed. Nah. Cas would have to know what mix-tapes were. If nothing else, Metatron had packed the guy’s head with movies, and at least some of them must have included the important cultural significance of creating a perfect selection of music for someone. Cas would work it out. 

He turned back three times on the way to Cas’ room, but he managed to get himself inside and left the tape on Cas’ pillow. It didn’t get more romantic than that. 

Mission successful, Dean stalked off to the library and poured himself a whiskey. Now all he had to do was wait until Cas came back with Sam from that salt-and-burn up the road and he’d see whether Cas felt the same way. 

Fuck, but this was a bad idea. 

If he’d not taken a knock to his bad leg he’d have been out on the hunt with Sam, and he wouldn’t have been sitting around staring at the TV when that chat-show host started going on about gestures and missing your chance. Hell, Dean had missed Cas entirely the last Valentine’s Day. Dude had been Lucifer. He’d had to admit the man on TV had a point. If Dean didn’t grab his chance to let Cas know now, it could all have gone to shit again before he got another try. 

Still…

The clang of the Bunker door opening caught him partway across the library, ready to snatch up the cassette and hide it away. Or destroy it. He’d find another way to tell Cas. Or not tell him. Having his best friend around was enough. It was. 

Only, Sam called over the walkway to him, saying something about steaks, and Cas arrived behind him holding a box and looking as close to a grin as Dean had ever seen him, and he couldn’t sneak off to Cas’ room without it being noticed. 

Well. So be it. That all too familiar feeling of calm settled over Dean as he watched the die being cast and waited to see where it would fall. At least he’d know, one way or another.

**************************

Castiel found it in a small shop as they were questioning witnesses for the hunt. It sat on a shelf, dusty and seemingly forgotten, and he had it cradled in his hands before he’d thought it through. 

Sam smiled as Castiel paid for it, soft and gentle, and once again Castiel wondered if Sam suspected the truth. It had never been said, but Sam had started treating him differently, some time after Purgatory, and hours upon hours of watching TV had made Castiel wonder if Sam thought something had happened. With Castiel and Dean. It was in the way Sam looked at him, the way he phrased things, but Castiel was still more angel than human, millions of years of cultural conditioning not cast off by even so frenetic a few years, and he wasn’t sure he was reading it right. 

He wasn’t sure he was reading Dean right, either, but he’d reached the point where he had to try something, if only to know. 

“You got something in mind for that, Cas?” Sam asked as they slid back into the car. The corner of his mouth was turned up in that way he had when he was amused, but affectionately so. 

“Yes,” Castiel said. 

He opened his mouth to say more, but if he was wrong, and it was all wishful thinking, and Sam didn’t suspect anything, or even suspected what Castiel felt and knew it was futile, he suddenly found he didn’t want to know. Not until he’d at least tried. He pressed his lips together and looked out of the side window.

“Okay,” Sam said after a moment. “Well. It’s good a have a plan.”

But Castiel found, once he was back in the Bunker and watching Dean eat his steak, that his plan was tenuous at best. The glass-like ornament had seemed so perfect in the shop, an arcing wing in shades of jade. What if Dean didn’t understand that it meant he saw Dean as his wings? Not as a replacement. Of course not. Nothing could replace the ragged mess that had once been his wings. But another set of wings, in a way. 

The box sat in his bag, near the bottom of the stairs, as Dean cut and chewed and swallowed, his cheeks bulging with the food Sam and Castiel had bought and which Dean had insisted on cooking. For some reason, Sam had lit candles which had sent Dean into a fit of laughter which didn’t seem entirely genuine. 

Either way, his skin was burnished and beautiful in this light and Castiel wondered how many candles they had in the Bunker and where he could buy more.

Once they were done with the food, Sam and Dean cleared up and Castiel slipped away to take his bag to his room. On the way, he stopped in Dean’s room and left the box with the gift on Dean’s bed. He wanted to let Dean open it on his own, in case the sentiment wasn’t something Dean returned.

Dean couldn’t possibly misunderstand how Castiel felt. He’d paid extra at the little artist place in that town to have the words inscribed on the base.

When he got to his room, he found a cassette on his pillow, with his name on it in Dean’s writing. A gift. For him. From Dean. Hope pulsed in his borrowed breast. 

With hands that wanted to tremble, he took it to the cassette player Dean had insisted on installing in Cas’ room and slid the tape inside. He intended to listen to whatever message Dean had for him very carefully indeed.

****************************

Cas didn’t reappear after dinner, and Dean swallowed his disappointment with his glass of wine. Wine he’d opened so they could, maybe, add to that whole semi-romantic vibe Sam had started with the candles. Whatever that was about, Dean was willing to use it. 

When Sam raised an eyebrow at the other glass, Dean gestured for him to take it, like he’d meant it for Sam all along, but Sam shook his head and said something about brewing some tea. Next time Dean looked up, Sam had slipped away, so Dean grouched off to his room. It’d been foolish to freshen up, put on a decent shirt. Like Cas had any idea what any of that meant. Dean had needed to tell the guy to leave behind his work vest before a date, for fuck’s sake. 

There was a box on his bed.

His name was scrawled on the top in what he was pretty sure was Cas’ writing. Wasn’t like he saw it a lot. Well. A gift. Maybe this wasn’t a total write off.

A glint of green made him careful as he pulled the lid fully open and lifted out the contents. The thing was heavy, made of glass so green it could have come from the ocean or from some jade palace, and it was unmistakably a set of wings. What the fuck was Cas trying to tell him? 

The guy had said he missed his wings. Made sense. Dean hated it whenever he couldn’t drive the Impala, and she only felt like a part of him. Must be hell to lose something like wings. Bobby had thought about ending it all over his legs and, great as legs were, they couldn’t pull you through time and space like an angel’s wings could.

Cas hadn’t seemed over keen on taking the hunt with Sam, either. Had he been feeling tied down here, with the Winchesters? With Dean? Was this Cas telling Dean he wanted his freedom back, that he wanted back into Heaven?

That…that made sense. In a way. Cas had been beaten around by them, but it wasn’t like Dean and Sam were free on that front, either, and they were Cas’ people. The angels. Maybe Cas could get his wings back if he went home. 

Dean couldn’t help the stab to his gut that Cas felt he had to say it this way, in weird hints, but Dean hadn’t exactly modeled open communication over the years. 

Fine. It hurt. It wasn’t what Dean wanted to hear. But if that was what Cas needed, then Dean would do everything he could to get the guy back to Heaven. Starting now.

Taking the wings with him to keep his resolve strong, Dean strode back to the library. He had research to do.

******************************

The songs were a mix of familiar ones Dean played over and over and over, and songs Castiel had no knowledge that Dean even knew. Other than the fact they were here, on this tape. Dean must be trying to tell him something. Perhaps it was that he’d tired of Castiel not knowing which songs he was listening to, that Dean found Castiel lacking and wanted to educate him.

Very well. He would listen and see if there was a message, and if nothing else he would the learn the waves making up these songs, so that he wouldn’t annoy Dean with his ignorance. 

The first song was Stairway to Heaven. Castiel had no idea what to make of that. Perhaps it was a metaphor, or else Dean was making a joke. 

Some of the songs were about love, and he felt hope stir again, but the next song would be about loneliness, or feeling pulled apart, and right at the end of the first side was a song he had to stop and rewind and listen to again. 

It sang about pressure and someone heading for the exits, about being an unstable mass of blood. Was this how he made Dean feel? Lost and under pressure and like his humanity was slipping away? Was he saying Castiel made him feel this way?

No wonder Dean hadn’t given this to Castiel in person. Dean had been hurt by having to tell Castiel to leave once before. He couldn’t begrudge Dean wanting to avoid that again.

Still, it hurt. It cut. 

Castiel rewound the song again, and felt his broken wings twitch at his back. He had no idea where Dean thought that he should go, or how he was to get there. Perhaps he was to set off in the Continental and… Had this last hunt been a test? To see if Castiel was fit to hunt alone, so that Dean could ease him out of their daily lives and stop feeling this awful pressure he felt when Castiel was around? 

The song ended, and he stopped the tape, and rewound it, and listened to it again. 

*****************************

Dean looked up at the sound of boots to see Cas hovering in the doorway, glancing around him in that way he had when he was unsure about saying something. 

“Spit it out, Cas,” Dean said. “Might as well, at this point.”

Cas’ lips parted, closed, and Dean tried not to stare. If Cas wanted to leave, if he was missing his wings so badly, then Dean had no chance and it would just hurt more if he let himself imagine it. 

“What are you doing?” Cas asked at last. 

Dean stared around at the piles of books on the table, at the book he had open in front of him, and at the notebook beside him, ink sprawled across most of the open page. 

“What does it look like?” he asked. “Research. For you.”

“For me?”

Cas came closer, shooting looks at Dean as though not sure he was allowed. Dean bit his lip again to stop himself from saying anything harsh. He watched as Cas turned the top book on a pile and read the title, as he pulled others towards him and checked their titles, too. When he looked up at Dean, his eyes glistened. 

“These books are all on Heaven or angels…or portals. What are you looking for, Dean?”

“A way for you to go home,” Dean said, and it came out gruff. Best he could do. He cleared his throat. “So, you bought me a pair of wings, huh?”

Cas blinked, as though that was a complete change of topic.

“Um. Yes. Yes, the people in the shop thought it was glass.”

“It’s not? Sure looks like glass.”

Talking about it was both a curse and a blessing. It meant facing up to the fact that Cas gave it to him, but it was an excuse to stop researching for a while, and any pause on that meant keeping Cas with him a little longer. Besides, it was starting to occur to him he may be overreacting. Maybe he was reading too much into the wings.

“No,” Cas said. “It’s crystallized Grace. Much rarer. And useful.” His voice warmed and he moved closer, one hand reaching out until he caressed the edge of a wing with an index finger. “You can break some off and ingest it in tea. I can show you how.”

“And why would I want to do that?” Dean asked, imagining the crunch of something glass-like in his mouth.

“It would heal wounds,” Cas said, tone earnest. “In case I couldn’t help you, in case I… It’s a way you can still be healed.”

Right. Dean felt cold, doused in ice. A way Dean and Sam could be healed when Cas had gone. Okay. 

“You really are serious about this, aren’t you?” Dean asked. He’d learned his lesson about not talking it out.

“Yes,” Cas said. “Yes, Dean. It… I’m sorry if…”

“Hey. No worries,” Dean said, because he could be a fucking saint at times. “”This is… Yeah. So. Um.” He spread his hands out. “What we’ve got here are your basic transportation and portal spells, as well as anything I could dig up on getting into Heaven without using that one gateway they have. You think once you’re back you can talk them round, right?”

Cas’ eyes were huge when Dean looked at him. Perhaps he hadn’t thought Dean would pick up on the hint so quickly, but come on… The wings and the whole healing magic without Cas thing? Even Dean was brighter than that.

“I…” Cas set his jaw and stood straighter. “I have to hope so.”

The lack of his wings must really be hurting him if he was willing to do this without even being sure. Dean felt that pang, the one that made him want to wrap Cas up and keep him safe in the Bunker forever. But Sam had finally got through to Dean that such behavior was wrong. Stifling or whatever. He couldn’t coddle the people he loved. What was that old saying? If you love something? Yeah, that.

“Good,” Dean said. “Then let’s make a list. See what we’ve got.”

******************************

Dean really wanted him to go. Castiel had hoped, when he’d listened to that music, that he was mistaken. The books, the notes, told him that Dean meant it. Whatever Castiel had done, Dean was finally tired of him.

He took a pile of books to the other table and kept his back to Dean so the man couldn’t see the tears in Castiel’s eyes. 

*****************************

Sam wandered out of his room in the late evening to find research central had kicked into gear. Dean looked about ready to chew rocks and from the glimpse Sam got of Cas’ face the angel was about ready to cry. What the fuck had the two of them got up to? 

It didn’t take long for Sam to spot the glass wings near Dean, so Cas had given him the gift. Oh, fuck. Had Dean rejected Cas? For the sake of his sanity, Sam had to hope there was something to be done to put this right.

He’d been so sure the two of them had been together and broken up, that the whole thing with Naomi controlling Cas and then the Mark had ended some relationship they had going on, and it had come as a real shock when he’d realised they really hadn’t got up to anything at all. For God’s sake, Sam had almost introduced Cas as his brother-in-law more than once. 

He really wanted Cas to be his brother-in-law, if only so he could get the whole relationship status thing straight in his head, and so he could have a term for Cas other than ‘my best friend but he’s more my brother’s best friend, really’. 

Besides, the pair of them deserved a little happiness, and Sam would feel much better about calling Eileen again if Dean wasn’t on his own. 

“What are you looking into?” he asked, stopping by the table Dean had claimed and flicking through a book. “Some case come up? Tell me it isn’t another love spell.”

“Nah,” Dean said. “Cas here wants back into Heaven. I’m helping him find a way.”

Sam looked up in time to catch the twitch of Cas’ shoulders. It was something he did when he was surprised, and that hunching happened when he wasn’t happy. Maybe it was the ornament putting it into his head, but Sam was reminded strongly of the way a bird’s wings moved. 

“Cas? You got a minute?” he asked. “I could do with some coffee and I can never remember how you like it.”

If he’d needed proof that both Dean and Cas were spinning round their own little centers of misery, the fact neither one of the questioned such an obvious attempt to get Cas on his own was it. 

In the kitchen, he waited until Cas was by the table and told him to sit. With his nose crinkling up in confusion, Cas sat. Well, slumped.

Sam took the seat opposite and leaned in, as though that might get him closer to working this out.

“All right,” he said. “You gave him the wings. What happened?”

Cas shrugged and looked away.

“Cas,” Sam said, “you’ve got to let me help on this one. How did giving Dean a present end up with him thinking you want to go back upstairs?”

At that, Cas blinked, his chin coming up.

“He doesn’t think that,” Cas said. “Dean wants me to go.”

Which was about the most stupid thing Sam had ever heard Cas say. Cas was bright. Like, genius level smart, if that sort of thing could be applied to an angel, but right now he clearly needed a helping hand.

“You know that’s bullshit, right?” Sam asked. As Cas hunched in on himself, Sam pushed on. “No way would Dean want you gone, Cas. Like, ever. I’m surprised he hasn’t clung to you like a limpet at some point.”

“He told me to leave before,” Cas said, but he sounded like he wanted to be persuaded. 

Sam winced. 

“Yeah. And that was shitty. Trust me, Dean and I had words about that, but my life is not at risk now, and I’ve made it crystal clear to Dean that he is never to make some stupid choice like that again. It cut him up. I could see it even when I didn’t know why you were gone. And trust me, the only reason I didn’t come looking for you myself is that Dean made out you chose to leave. And you don’t want to leave now, do you?”

“No. No, of course not,” Cas said. 

Sam noticed the angel had straightened slightly.

“Okay. So, what’s making you think that Dean wants you to go?”

As Cas explained about the mix-tape, Sam felt a bubbling mix of horror and hilarity all through him. A mix-tape was serious business. As far as Sam knew, Dean had only ever made those for himself. Maybe for Cassie. And then there was that one he’d made Sam, years ago, that had made Sam feel cared for and looked over even when Dean and Dad had been off hunting without him. But for Dean to shove on some of the songs he had, and without a note explaining it for Cas…? God, they were a pair of…

“Look, Cas,” he said, once Cas wound down from his unhappy recount. “You need to go and ask Dean to talk you through that tape. I think you’ve gotten the code wrong.”

For the sake of the hope in Cas’ eyes, Sam hoped to anyone who’d listen that he had this right. He had to have this right.

“Did you listen to both sides? Or did you get stuck on that one song?”

He didn’t really need Cas’ answer. He’d read more than once in old lore books about vampires and their tendency to fixate on things, but they had nothing on angels. On Cas, anyway. 

“Go and talk to Dean,” Sam said. A new thought struck him. “But before you do, let me go and have a word. All right? Oh, and the wings? They were to tell Dean you love him, right?”

He was halfway out of his seat as he said it, and Cas had clearly thought Sam was done. From the way his head shot up and his shoulders went back, he hadn’t been expecting the question.

“Yes,” he said stiffly, after a pause. “Is…is that acceptable?”

“Cas,” Sam said, and fought the urge to reach out and ruffle Cas’ hair, “I can think of no-one I want with Dean more than you. You’re already family, Man. Now give me, like, twenty minutes and come talk to Dean. Properly. With words.”

And he left Cas sitting in the kitchen, hopefully getting over the shock of at least one of them using the ‘L’ word outright. 

************************

Dean was still standing at the table, not even bothering to sit down as he pored over lore books. His fingers tapped on the page he was reading, a tic Dean didn’t even seem to realize he had.

“Hey,” Sam said. “So, you going to explain why you think Cas wants to leave?”

“He didn’t mention it to you when you were on that hunt?” 

“No,” Sam said, keeping it simple. A panicked Dean was not one who needed further confusion. The guy was at least ten times brighter than he thought he was, but the fear of losing the love of his life, again, wasn’t good for his processing speed. “Pretty sure he wants to stay right here. So why do you think different?”

“He gave me this, Sammy,” Dean said, reaching out and setting his hand on the wings without looking. 

“Okay,” Sam said, when that seemed to be all he was getting. “And that means we go all out to find a back route into Heaven why?”

He wasn’t much clearer after Dean had explained.

“You get that Cas was tortured nearly to death the last time angels got hold of him, right?” he asked. “And I think you’ve got it all wrong about this statue. Have you actually asked him about it? Or just jumped to a conclusion and clung on?”

Dean’s silence is more than answer enough.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” Sam said. “Look, he’s gonna come in here soon and I want you to talk to him. Ask him what these wings mean, and be straight with him. All right? I’ve been waiting to give him the whole ‘welcome to the family’ speech for years. If I revise it any more it’ll lose all its freshness.”

He slapped Dean on the shoulder and left before the look on Dean’s face could unfreeze. He’d done what he could. The two of them should at least try to take it from here. 

****************************

“Dean?”

Dean looked up to see Cas standing a few feet away, looking hesitant. 

“I still need to get you a fucking bell,” Dean muttered, but his heart wasn’t in it. Sam’s words had shaken him, and given him hope, and made him want to hide. He wasn’t going to, though. He’d told himself earlier that day that he would find out either way, and he thought he had, but maybe he’d been wrong. Time to take a leap. “Come over here.”

Cas did as he was told, and Dean kicked out a chair, dropping into the one nearest to him as Cas joined him at the table. Neither of them spoke for a while, the silence heavy and thick around them.

“Look,” Dean said, breaking it. “I maybe should have just asked you straight out. Why’d you get me the wings? What are they supposed to mean?”

He’d seen that glitter of panic in Cas’ eyes before, but his friend set his shoulders and looked back at Dean without flinching. He looked partway to battle-mode.

“It’s written on the Grace,” Cas said, and he nodded at the statue.

Dean frowned and lifted the thing. It was heavier than it should be, in some ways, and he couldn’t see any writing on it. He had to turn it round until he caught it, the symbols etched onto the base. 

“This Enochian?” he asked. 

At Cas’ nod, Dean sighed.

“Look, Cas, that’s great, but I don’t speak Enochian. Just… Wait. Hang on.”

And he pushed halfway out of his seat to reach a book he’d flicked through earlier. This one had a whole section on Enochian, including phrases, and Cas sat without speaking while Dean searched the pages. When he found it, his heart stuttered.

“Cas,” he said, his finger tracing over the words ‘Olani hoath ol.’ “What’d you get me this for?”

“To tell you I love you,” Cas said. 

And it turned out it really was that simple. 

***************************

“No, Cas. No,” Dean said, later, as they sat together in Cas’ room and listened to the tape together. He wasn’t sure when he’d last been this happy. “That song is about me, okay? Not you. Did you even turn it over to the other side? That side’s about you. Here, let me show you.”

He felt Cas watching him as he leaned over and set the other side going, a gaze with more heat in it than Dean had let himself hope for. 

A few songs in, Cas leaned into Dean.

“You really see me this way?” he asked, his voice low and reverent.

“Sure thing,” Dean said. “And, Cas, in case I wasn’t clear… I want you to stay.”

“With you,” Cas said, leaning in.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said. “With me.”

And the rest of the songs had to wait for an explanation, because they found far better things to do than talk about why Dean chose the songs he had. The music did provide some cover for the creaking of the bed, at least. So there was that.

**************************

Next morning, Sam ran into Dean in the kitchen, his robe loosely tied and two glasses of water in his hands.

“Talk went well, I take it,” Sam said. 

“Er. Yeah,” Dean said. 

“Cool,” Sam said, sliding past Dean to get his own glass of water. “But you might want to play something louder next time. You do remember Cas’ room is right next to mine, right? Something with a strong, rhythmic bass.”

Dean really had no call to splash water in Sam’s face for that. He took Sam’s advice, though. For the rest of the day, Sam heard a deep reverberating beat throughout the Bunker, and he was pretty sure it was the music. Mostly the music. 

************************

Epilogue (If one can have an epilogue to so short a piece)

Dean and Castiel sat cross-legged, facing each other, with nothing but rumpled blankets covering their laps. Dean kept breaking off in the middle of a sentence to flick his gaze down Castiel’s body and back up, and Castiel found he liked that. After all, he kept doing the same to Dean.

In a while, he would stretch out and ease Dean back onto the bed, exploring that skin and all the ways he could touch it, but for now he listened to Dean explaining the songs on the mix-tape. Dean’s eyes lit up until they were as brilliant to Castiel’s eyes as any amount of Grace, and he saw how Sam had so easily known a mix-tape was a declaration of love. To Dean, it was a serious and deeply emotional act. The tape which had made Castiel so unhappy now felt like an offering of devotion, and he would always be angel enough that such a thing secretly thrilled him, as long as it was done out of love and not fear.

“The whole first side is about you?” he asked, checking he had heard Dean correctly. At Dean’s nod, Castiel let himself frown. “But, Dean, the first side has songs which express loathing and failure. You’re not loathsome and you haven’t failed.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow and reached out to clasp Castiel’s right hand in his.

“Oh, but you could get right behind the idea I meant those songs to be about you? Pot and kettle, here, Cas.”

It was a fair point, logically speaking. 

“Anyway,” Dean went on, perhaps realizing that Castiel couldn’t fully cast aside his own issues just to keep this moment light-hearted, “the whole second side is about you, and us. You get that, right?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel said, though he was still having some trouble working out how quickly things had changed. He’d felt and tasted Dean in ways he hadn’t thought he’d ever get to. In this moment, he wasn’t sure he could ever doubt Dean’s love for him again. “I like ‘Absolute Beginners’,” he added, hearing the low rumble in his own voice.

Dean flushed slightly, his mouth stretching into that shy, charming grin Castiel loved so much.

“Yeah? What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart.”

And no matter the slight lilt that said Dean was trying to sound amusing, Castiel believed the truth in his words. 

“I know,” Castiel said. “But next year, perhaps we could agree on something which can’t be misinterpreted. Roses, perhaps. Or dinner. I understand those are popular choices.”

“Next year,” Dean said, “we’re gonna spend the whole day in bed, so you’d better bring snacks.”

And he leaned off the bed long enough to rewind the tape to the song Castiel liked best before letting the angel push him flat. Being beginners meant they needed the practice, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> ExpatGirl has put together a playlist for the tape. The songs on Dean's mixtape are:
> 
> Stairway to Heaven, Led Zeppelin  
> All Along the Watchtower, Hendrix  
> Wild Horses, Rolling Stones  
> Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd  
> The One I Love, REM  
> Autoclave, MOuntain Goats
> 
> Wild is the Wind, Nina Simone  
> Hey, Jude, Beatles  
> Someday Soon, Judy Collins  
> God Only Knows, Beach Boys  
> In Your Eyes, Peter Gabriel  
> Absolute Beginners, David Bowie
> 
> You can listen to it here: 
> 
> [Dean's mixtape](http://8tracks.com/a-wild-tangent-appears/absolute-beginners)


End file.
